Poem by Claude McKay

Alfonso, Dressing to Wait at Table

Alfonso is a handsome bronze-hued lad 
Of subtly-changing and surprising parts; 
His moods are storms that frighten and make glad, 
His eyes were made to capture women’s hearts. 

Down in the glory-hole Alfonso sings 
An olden song of wine and clinking glasses 
And riotous rakes; magnificently flings 
Gay kisses to imaginary lasses. 

Alfonso’s voice of mellow music thrills 
Our swaying forms and steals our hearts with joy; 
And when he soars, his fine falsetto trills 
Are rarest notes of gold without alloy. 

But, O Alfonso! wherefore do you sing 
Dream-songs of carefree men and ancient places? 
Soon we shall be beset by clamouring 
Of hungry and importunate palefaces.

1. Adolescence
2. Spring in New Hampshire
3. Home Thoughts
4. To One Coming North
5. O Word I Love to Sing

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